


Naming Conventions

by pipisafoat



Series: Harry Granger [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Harry, Diagon Alley, Gen, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Express, Leaky Cauldron, Platform 9 3/4, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Society, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Squibs, Tutoring, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: Harry Granger prepares for Hogwarts and learns that purebloods are probably going to annoy him the rest of his life about his name. His sister is right there with him - even in the name thing, which baffles them both.





	

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore  
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK_

_Mr. Granger,_

_Due to the tutoring arranged for you and your sister by your parents, you will not be required by the school to have A History of Magic or The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. Please speak with your tutor, Mr. Remus Lupin, to determine what materials will be required for your private History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts courses._

_I understand that Mr. Lupin will also be tutoring the two of you in Muggle courses. Hogwarts School Board of Governors wishes to remind you that this is a privilege granted to you and not a right. You may be required to forego Muggle courses if your magical coursework suffers._

_Mr. Lupin will be sent a copy of your class schedule(s) as soon as they are decided after your arrival to school and subsequent Sorting into your House. He will contact you thereafter to arrange your tutoring schedule._

_Muggle-born and Muggle-raised students are typically provided with a Hogwarts escort to assist in the purchasing of the first year's school supplies. Mr. Lupin has offered to escort you in lieu of this tradition. If you prefer a Hogwarts staff escort, please send a reply back with this owl - simply write a note and tie it to his foot, and he will bring it back to me. If you accept Mr. Lupin's offer and have no other correspondence for me at this time, you may tell the owl, "No reply," and he will return to the post office._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

"Is that Harry Potter?" the crowd whispers over and over as the family follows Remus Lupin through The Leaky Cauldron. On their previous couple of trips to Diagon Alley, the Grangers had used Ministry portkeys to arrive in the alleyway, but Mr. Lupin had decided it would be best to show them how to get here using Muggle means today.

"I don't recognize those people. Are they wizards, too? Maybe from another country? That would explain why we didn't see the Boy-Who-Lived for so long," one witch whispers loudly to her friend.

"They could have at least put him with a respectable British pure-blood family," the friend replies, not even bothering to whisper. "Foreigners can't be trusted to raise him right."

Harry presses closer to his father, whose grip on his shoulder is firm enough to help settle his nerves. The man stops and turns to the witches and wizards talking about them. "This boy is not named Harry Potter," he says firmly. "I would appreciate it if you'd stop whispering about my son."

"He's clearly not your son," a wizard from the corner retorts loudly. "I'm pretty sure you can't have a kid whose skin color is that different from your own. Also, you're British, so we have to know - are you even a wizard?"

"You don't have to know, actually," Sam replies mildly. "Just stop gossiping about what you think my son might be named, and we'll be on our way."

Remus sets a hand on Sam's shoulder. "They won't listen to reason. They're probably all congregated here hoping to see Harry Potter today. Let's just keep going. Let them gossip and stare at someone with the wrong name all they want to. Your son knows who he really is."

"They're Muggles," a different wizard spits. "They have to be, hanging around with a werewolf."

"A werewolf?" Half the crowd in the pub flinches back from the family and their guide, while the other half all draw their wands and move closer.

"We'll protect you, lad, and your bonny lady friend, too," one witch says, reaching towards the children. "Just step away from that beast-"

"No," Harry says firmly.

Remus sighs and looks worriedly at the Grangers. "I am a werewolf."

"We figured that out," Emily responds without concern. "We're not worried. You were up front about your condition, even if you didn't name it, and your safety precautions are sufficient. You're a good man who lives with lycanthropy, Mr. Lupin, and that's how this family sees you."

"You can't let Harry Potter associate with half-breeds!" a wizard says loudly, stepping forward and reaching for the boy in question.

A loud bang echoes through the pub, and everyone freezes. Tom, the owner of the pub, reholsters his wand as the crowd turns to look at him.

"Nobody will be assaulting anyone in my establishment or on my grounds," the man warns in a low voice. "This boy's family says his name is not Harry Potter, and that's good enough for me. Anyone who calls him the wrong name, insults his family or guide, or so much as hints at assaulting him will be removed from the premises and have the Aurors called on them. Let them pass."

Remus smiles gratefully at the bartender as he ushers the family out the back door and to a brick wall. "Up to this wall is all Tom's property, and beyond that is Diagon Alley, so I think we're okay for now. Now, watch how I open the wall, children. In the future, the two of you will have to open the gateway with your wands. It won't open for anyone not carrying a wand.” He pulls his wand from the pocket sewed into his left sleeve and points it at the wall, pausing to catch Harry and Hermione’s eyes. “You start from the handle of this trash can and count up three bricks and over two.”

“Left or right?” Hermione interrupts.

“Either.” Remus chooses left today and taps the brick in question three times. “Three taps with your wand, and the wall opens. The difference between going—“

The Grangers aren’t paying Remus any attention, and he can’t blame them. He should have known better than to keep talking after triggering the opening; he just didn’t think. The bricks are turning into the opening in front of their faces - the brick he chose today triggers the quivering, wriggling appearance of a small hole that enlarges into the classic archway. Of course the family is distracted by what is little more than an amusing visual effect to him but a totally new manifestation of magic to them.

“Shall we?” he asks, placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder to urge her through the archway. “It will close shortly if we don’t step through.”

“Does it do something different if you go over to the right?” Harry asks. “If so, I think we should let it close and see that opening, too!”

Remus laughs when Hermione quickly agrees. A quick glance to their parents gives permission, and Remus lets the archway close before counting out the bricks for their real entrance. Up three and over two to the right, three taps, and the bricks start to rotate in place, sliding away from each other to create the same archway in a different but no less visually stunning way. As the family and their escort finally step through into Diagon Alley, Remus marvels at the fact that Harry and Hermione segue almost instantly from agreeing on the right-tap opening being more interesting into coming up with new visual effects to add to the wall when they learn enough to figure out how to do it.

“How are we on funds, Emily?” Sam asks as they head up the alleyway. “I was thinking I could go ahead and get the kids started on their shopping while you go to Gringotts, if we need to.”

“All of their school supplies can be drafted against their vaults, but I was planning to get them each some spending money for their extra books and the like. Would you like to stay with them for the first shop or two while I go to Gringotts?”

“I didn’t even think to ask you that,” Remus interjects. “I need to visit the bank myself, so why don’t I go with you? Sam, I would recommend starting at Madam Malkin’s with these two - get the robes done while they’re still talking about the entryway and save the bookstore for last, or perhaps Ollivander’s for last.”

“That sounds good,” Sam replies. “Just drop us there on your way to the bank. Emily, which vault should Harry use for his supplies?”

“I don’t know that it matters,” she answers.

Remus frowns. “It might. I’m familiar with the Potter vault rules, and any unused money will stay in the vault until it’s used or the beneficiary dies - not that we’re worried about that with Harry! I don’t know if his trust vault would empty into the family vault or convert into a standard personal vault when he comes of age, but I know the money doesn’t just disappear. With the Burke vault, I don’t know if their rule is to add the yearly amount to whatever is still in there or to add up to the yearly amount. I also don’t know what happens to Harry’s Burke trust vault when he comes of age. Of course, what you do with this information is your choice, and—“

“Have Harry use his Burke vault just in case the money disappears. It’s his, and he’s going to have it even if we have to withdraw it all every year and deposit it into his Potter vault!”

Sam and Remus laugh at her determination before Remus stops walking. “Here we are. Sam, just let Madam Malkin or her assistants know that you’re here for Hogwarts - though I’m sure she’ll guess it - and she’ll take care of you. You might want to also see if she has any good gloves in stock for them to use in Herbology, but if not, I know other places to look. I don’t know how the lines will be at Gringotts, but we’ll meet you back here or … how about Scribbulus? Two shops down, for them to get quills and parchment.”

They spend most of the day in Diagon Alley buying school supplies, odds and ends, and a few treats for the children to eat on the train ride the following week. As tends to happen with the Grangers, they stay far longer than planned in the book shops and end up stopping for a bite at a teahouse before making their last stop of the day, the one that has both kids almost vibrating in their seats as the adults draw out their tea and biscuits just to tease them.

“Remus, I will pay you three Galleons if you put that biscuit back,” Harry finally offers when the man reaches for what he guesses is his eighteenth dessert from the magically refilling platter. Even with his love of chocolate, Remus has pocketed about two-thirds of the biscuits; he’s mildly surprised the sharp-eyed Hermione hasn’t noticed.

“I’ll pay you four if you take another,” Hermione counters. Maybe she has noticed and is joining forces with the adults to torment her brother? “But you have to eat every bite of every biscuit to get the money.”

Or she’s noticed and just wants him to know.

“How about nobody pays anybody for anything?” Emily suggests.

Rosa, the proprietor, happens to come up to the table at just that point. “Except for me, of course,” she says, winking at Remus. “I can’t have you taking all my biscuits and running out on the check!” Yeah, he’s definitely been caught out by everybody except Harry.

“We would never,” Remus proclaims. He does, however, take the final biscuit and stuff it defiantly into his mouth, regardless of the fact that it might be better suited to three or four bites. Hermione hides a giggle behind her hand as her mother glares at him. He thinks twice before speaking and forces the biscuit down first. “To Ollivander’s?”

“Finally!” Harry shouts, shooting up from his seat. “Madam Rosa, Dad Granger’s ready to pay you now!”

“Harry—“

“Come on, Mum. My Potter parents would want to treat all of you, so please let me? Just this once?”

Remus nods the tiniest bit over Harry’s head. It is exactly what James and Lily would have done if they could. James, of course, would be egging Remus on in the biscuit-snatching department and thus feel responsible for the larger than usual bill, but Lily would want to treat the Grangers on such a big day for them all. He decides not to tell Sam and Emily about James’s motivations, though.

“Okay, Harry. If you’re treating, I think you should pay, though.” Sam passes his son a pouch of coins, and a proud Harry carefully counts out exact change before hesitating.

“Do wizards do tips?”

“It’s not required like it is in the muggle world,” Remus explains, “but it’s encouraged if you’ve had a particularly good time and have the Galleons to spare. One Sickle to the Galleon is the usual amount.”

Harry counts out the coins and, with more gentle explanation from Remus, sets them in the center of the table. Remus taps the table with his wand to let the payment vanish from the table to Madam Rosa’s vault, hands Harry the receipt, and ushers them out the doorway and back onto the still-busy street.

There’s a family in the wand shop when they finally arrive, and the man jumps up from his chair to offer it to Emily. Remus smiles as she declines and insists the man retake the seat.

“Jason MacDougal,” he introduces himself before sitting. “My granddaughter, Morag, is a bit occupied trying to find her wand; please excuse her.”

“Of course! Sam Granger. My wife, Emily, and our children, Hermione and Harry. This is our friend and guide for the day, Remus Lupin.”

“Welcome to the wizarding world.” Jason stands again. “Morag?”

The girl beams at her grandfather. “Ash and unicorn!”

“Very like your mother. Well done. These are the Grangers and Mr. Lupin.”

“Nice to meet you.” Morag turns her smile to the kids as her grandfather walks to the counter to pay for her wand. “Which of you is starting at Hogwarts this year?”

“Both of us, actually,” Hermione says, offering her hand. “I’m Hermione, and this is my brother Harry. Your family is all magical, then?”

“Yes, for several generations. Muggle born?”

Harry nods. “Good as.”

“I’ll look for you at the station, then, if you like? I can introduce you to some of my friends on the train!”

“That would be great, Morag. Thank you,” Emily interjects as Ollivander strides over to them. “Harry, ready for your wand?”

Remus knows better than to expect a short stop in Ollivander’s shop - one of the reasons he suggested they eat beforehand - but Harry seems to take an utterly ridiculous amount of time to find a wand. When he finally gets a good match, Ollivander manages to put a damper on the whole group:

“I remember all the wands I’ve sold in my lifetime, Mr. Potter-Granger. Every last one of them. It happens to be that the phoenix who donated the tail feather in your wand gave another feather - just two feathers in total. The wand that holds the other feather, the brother to your wand … It is that wand which gave you the scar you now bear. The destinies of wands are not lightly set, Mr. Potter-Granger, not lightly at all.”

* * *

_**The Boy-Who-Lived Forsakes His Birth Name!  
Harry Potter Adopted by Muggles, Changes His Name to Match Theirs!  
by Rita Skeeter** _

_Like many of you faithful readers, this reporter spent more time than usual the past few days in Diagon Alley, watching the students shop after receiving their Hogwarts letters, waiting to catch a glimpse of the famed Harry Potter's first outing in the world since he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a baby. Many young children were questioned, but none admitted to being Harry Potter. However, one young boy shopping with known werewolf Remus Lupin and a Muggle family was heard to be called Harry. Upon questioning, the Muggle man gave this statement:_

_"My son's name is Harry Granger, not Harry Potter. He and my daughter are trying to buy their supplies for the upcoming school year. Please leave us in peace to shop."_

_Of course, this intrepid reporter did not let this boy, the possible saviour of all wizardkind, simply slip through her fingers. While Ministry records on Harry Potter remain sealed to the public for his protection, Muggle records show that Harry Potter was legally adopted by Emily and Sam Granger on March 18, 1988. His name was changed on that same date in the Muggle world to Harry Granger, rendering his real name Harry Potter-Granger. His sister is a witch named Hermione Burke-Granger who will be entering Hogwarts this year as well. Sam Granger is a confirmed Muggle, but a Ministry report from two years ago shows that Emily Granger was born Alavani Burke and that she and her children have inherited the Burke fortune._

_Yes, her children have both inherited from the Burke family! Hermione Burke-Granger, as a blood descendant, has a quite respectable trust vault and will receive all vaults and properties when she comes of age, but young Harry has a smaller trust vault that will continue until he reaches the age of 25._

_Faithful readers, those of you familiar with the Burke family will notice that there are no policies in place for any wards of the family not of blood or magical descent to receive any more than the family's protection. The Potters are known not to have married with the Burke line, and Lily Potter's known Muggle heritage leaves only one option for Harry Potter-Granger's unexpected Burke inheritance: he has been magically adopted by Emily Granger._

_We all know that magical adoptions are binding regardless of the child's last name, so we must ask ourselves: Why did Harry Potter choose to try to leave behind a respected pure-blood name to take a Muggle name? Is he ashamed of his magic? Are there other, more sinister reasons at work, like his acceptance into the Burke family? Is the defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named leaving behind his light-aligned birth name to associate with the darker elements of society that his magical grandfather Caractacus Burke championed?_

_On behalf of the wizarding world, Harry Potter-Granger, I beg of you: turn away from the Dark Arts and stay with the side of the light, the side of your birth parents! Retake your place in our world as Harry Potter!_

* * *

“It’s actually quite easy,” Remus tries to explain to the Granger adults, but Sam in particular looks completely skeptical. “Look, the first time is always weird, but you’ll know what to expect after that. It won’t hurt a bit.” There’s silence with some significant looks exchanged. Remus squeezes Harry’s shoulder to try to quell his eagerness to go through the barrier onto Platform 9¾, but the boy squirms free and knocks into his mother.

“Look, Mum, they’re going through just fine!” he says, pointing indiscreetly at a group of laughing teenagers who jostle each other as they stroll into the apparently solid brick wall.

“We don’t see them on the other side to know that they’re okay!” Emily responds, pulling Harry against her side.

Remus nods to himself and smiles. “What if I go through the barrier and come back to you to show you that it’s okay?” he offers, and the adults relax a bit. “I’ll come back through in about thirty seconds.”

The platform isn’t busy yet; he had anticipated some resistance to the portal from his charges’ family and timed their arrival plenty early. He grins and waves at his old classmate Rebecca, makes a mental note to speak to her before leaving, and walks back through the portal to the Muggle side of the station. “Nothing to it,” he says calmly to the Grangers.

“And non-magical people can go through it okay, too?” Hermione asks, tugging her father forward by his hand until they’re right in front of the barrier. Remus smiles apologetically to the family stopped behind them, clearly waiting to get to the Hogwarts Express as well.

“No issues,” he confirms. “Muggle parents have been going through for ages, my own mother included."

Sam flinches visibly as he’s tugged straight into the brick wall, but he disappears before Emily can take more than a single step toward him. Remus tries his most encouraging smile on her, and Harry grabs her hand to try to encourage more steps to the barrier, but she freezes again.

“Sam!” she cries, and Remus casts a quick Notice-Me-Not charm around them to keep the station’s security from getting concerned.

“Hey, Em, come on through.” The voice is coming from a head sticking out of the barrier, and Remus resists the urge to slap his own forehead in frustration as he tosses another Notice-Me-Not charm on Sam’s head, modifying the two charms so those inside can be seen by each other. “Ah, there you are. Nothing to it, dear. Just close your eyes and walk right to me. I’ll be waiting.” His head disappears again, and Harry takes the moment of his mother’s distraction to pull her the last couple of steps into the brick wall. Her eyes slam shut at the last second.

Remus follows the pair through to Platform 9¾ as soon as he dispels the two charms he had cast. The adults are holding each other, Emily Granger still shaking slightly from the stress of walking through a brick wall, and the children are holding hands and staring around at the obvious magic on display on the platform.

“That’s the Hogwarts Express,” Hermione is saying to her brother, who rolls his eyes at her.

“I read _Hogwarts, A History_ same as you, Hermione,” he retorts. “Did you ever get to my copy of _Historical Wizarding Locales_?"

She shakes her head. “I was concentrating on our school books, like you should have been. Why?"

Harry grins and fails miserably at his attempt at winking at Remus. The werewolf carefully controls the grin that wants to show itself, settling for a neutral smile at both children. “Well, if you didn’t read that, I have a lot of interesting information for you about this particular historical wizarding locale,” he says with the bossy, important tone he worked hard to imitate from his sister. “Did you know that this train station was built exactly 9¾ days after construction on King’s Cross Station was complete? That’s how they named the platform, though it’s really an entire station almost a hundred miles away from King’s Cross connected by some sort of portal."

“Give me that book!” Hermione demands, holding out a hand imperiously, and Remus can’t contain the laugh this time.

“Honestly, Hermione, wouldn’t you rather experience the present moment - your own historical moment, the first time you’re on Platform 9¾ - rather than read about its history?"

She hesitates for an almost embarrassingly long time before conceding to Remus’s suggestion, and he guides the adult Grangers to an out of the way set of benches to watch the kids explore the platform and meet some of their new classmates before they needed to board the train. Morag MacDougal, whom they met in Diagon Alley, gives both of the children enthusiastic hugs before introducing them to one of her friends, an older student Remus thinks must be a Chang; she resembles a prefect he remembers from his earlier years at Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry turns away from the window before he can get sick watching the countryside speed past them and smiles at the two girls sitting with him and Hermione. “Hey, Morag? Cho? I have a question for you, if you know the answer.”

“Sure, Harry.”

“Why do you introduce me as Harry Potter-Granger? It’s just Harry Granger. And Hermione as Burke-Granger! She’s never been a Burke!”

The girls exchange a look. “Maybe it’s just Granger in the Muggle world, Harry, but you’re not in the Muggle world anymore. Names hold more power in the wizarding world, and you can’t turn your back on your heritage.”

“That was clear,” Hermione mutters.

“Look, let’s do this one person at a time, okay? Harry’s probably going to be easier for you to understand.” Morag shifts in her seat and hesitates. “This is something we’re brought up understanding, so I’m sorry if I don’t explain it very well. It starts at … well, let’s say it starts when you were born, Harry. You were Harry Potter then. You get a certain amount of power when you’re born.”

“Maybe a certain potential for power is a better way to say it,” Cho adds. “Obviously most infants aren’t doing big magical things right away.”

Morag nods. “True. Well, Harry kind of did, but that’s definitely unusual. Anyway, your power is stored in your body, or your soul, and in your name. Mostly it’s in your secret name—“

“His what?” a boy interrupts as he walks back into the compartment.

“His secret name, Justin. I promise we’ll explain that later, but it’s basically a name that nobody except your parents know unless you tell them. A way it’s harder for people to control you.”

“I heard that You-Know-Who got the secret names of all his followers, and that’s why they did whatever he told them,” Cho says.

“Wow, I hadn’t heard that one!” Morag shudders. “Anyway, most of your power is in your secret name, but some of it is in your regular birth name. The pureblood idea of being proud of your family name is partly because most of us believe that coming from a wizarding name gives you more power. The longer the name has belonged to wizards, the more power it holds.”

Hermione frowned. “So people think that if Harry goes by Granger instead of Potter, he’s rejecting that power?”

“In part, yes. That’s what people think he’s trying to do. The fact is that it’s really difficult to change your birth name. The Muggle name change shows up in our world as an addition to his name. Legally speaking, in the wizarding world, Harry’s last name is Potter-Granger. There’s a whole ritual to repudiate your birth name, and he hasn’t done it, so he’s still a Potter, no matter Muggles call him. I am going to introduce you by your legal and magical name, Harry, but I can start telling people you only want to be called Harry Granger. It won’t make you popular - for that matter, it won’t make me popular - but if you feel that strongly about it, I will.”

“Right now, I want to say yes, but you’re clearly against it, so I’ll think about it before I decide. Or you could let me introduce myself?”

“Maybe,” Morag concedes. “That’s bad manners to a lot of pureblood, but it’s better than me using a wrong name.”

“So what about me?” Hermione asks. “I’ve never been a Burke.”

Cho makes an indistinct sound, and the four younger students turn to her. “Magically speaking, you have been a Burke since birth. Magic itself recognizes you as a Burke every time you access your vaults, for example. You were born to the magical lineage of Burke, through your mother. Now, she doesn’t have to do a ritual to lose the name since she’s a Squib, but you still inherit it magically.”

“That is completely ridiculous. I think I’ll be introducing myself from now on, too. Hermione Burke-Granger. No, thanks.” Harry grins as his sister folds her arms over her chest and glares around the compartment. 

He has more questions, though, and so does she. What happens if you get married? (She keeps her birth name as a middle name and adds the wedded name to the end, though she doesn’t get to claim the magical power of it.) Do purebloods gain power through their mother’s birth name’s lineage or just through their father’s? (Only the father, even if it’s not known who that is.) What happens if a witch has a child with a Muggle man? (Wizarding names take precedence over Muggle names, though they’re legally hyphenated as Hermione’s is.) Can you be adopted magically? (Of course, and you usually add the magical name before a muggle name but after a wizarding name.) Why isn’t Harry called Harry Potter-Burke-Granger then? (Magically and legally, he is, but most wizards won’t introduce him that way just to avoid the mouthful and/or try to sway him away from the dark connotations of the Burke name.) What is it with the wizarding world and its penchant for hyphens? (Whatever do you mean, Boy-Who-Lived?)

“Is it true?"

Harry glances up from the discussion with Hermione, Morag, Justin, and Cho to see a blond boy standing in the door to their train compartment. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question as the others pause the conversation to look at their visitor.

“You’re the Boy-Who-Lived?” the thin boy asks.

Harry shrugs. “That’s what some people call me, though it’s not what I call myself."

“Ah, yes. Harry … Granger. Might I ask why you chose to forsake the name of your heritage?"

Harry considers this for a long moment. “You might,” he eventually answers, and Cho stifles a giggle beside him.

The boy smiles briefly. “Good answer,” he replies, sounding more sincere and approachable than he has the whole time he’s been standing in the doorway to their compartment. “I’m Draco Malfoy, another first year student. Before anyone else tells you,” he continues, raising his voice over Morag and Cho’s gasps, “my father is a pureblood wizard who was accused of being a Death Eater when the Dark Lord was in power, but the courts found him innocent."

“Because he bought the verdict,” Cho interjects.

Draco looks uncomfortable at this, but Harry doesn’t see guilt on his face.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says quickly. “Harry Granger, though you know that already. My sister Hermione."

Hermione offers her hand, and Draco shakes it with just the barest hesitation.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” Justin says, also offering his hand.

“Muggle born?” Draco asks, but he shakes Justin’s hand after the confirming nod.

“What are you playing at?” Cho asks Draco.

The boy seat himself on the bench beside Hermione. “Meeting classmates,” he answers smoothly, but Harry can tell from the slight tightening around his eyes that he’s hiding something. It’s the same look Dudley had when he told his mother a half-truth that ended with Harry locked in his cupboard. “Father says it’s important to network with those who have or are likely to gain power."

“We should have expected him to find the Boy-Who-Lived,” Morag tells Cho, who nods in agreement.

“Just because we attended the same Yule parties growing up doesn’t mean you understand me,” Draco says sharply to the girls. “Don’t worry, though. I don’t intend to stay where I’m not welcome.” He stands quickly and steps out of the compartment, hesitating only when Harry calls his name.

“I’ll see you at school?” the boy offers, intrigued by the things Draco left unsaid. He could be a good friend or a horrible enemy, but either way, it would pay to keep an eye on him. Harry had learned that lesson from his cousin.

Draco nods, his face losing the hard, angry edges. “Sure, Potter-Granger. Harry. I’ll see you at school."

Morag slams the compartment door shut as soon as Draco turns away again. “Don’t even think about being friends with him,” she snarls. “He was raised from birth to take advantage of people, and he’ll use your fame and money without a second thought. More than that, he hates Muggles and Muggle borns."

Hermione sets a hand on Harry’s wrist and answers for him. “Morag, I appreciate you telling us what you’ve seen of him at those Yule parties, and we’ll definitely consider it, but he was polite to all of us. He has a point that one party a year doesn’t really give you a chance to understand him. I think we’ll give him a chance to be friendly, but your words aren’t forgotten."

The girl stares at them, then finally nods. “Just don’t expect me to be happy or to spend time with him."

“Can we expect you to be polite if you and he cross paths?"

There’s another long pause before she answers. “I’ll try as long as he does."

* * *

“Potter-Burke-Granger, Harry!"

There’s a lot of muttering when his name is called that Hermione is pretty sure that Skeeter article is responsible for. She wouldn’t trade her brother for anything, and she knows how much it means to him that he has the same last name as the rest of his family, but she wishes he weren’t famous or he had decided to keep his original last name. It would be easier on him if he had.

Harry sits on the rickety-looking stool and sets the floppy hat on his head. Hermione imagines the crushing silence as the entire school stares and mutters and probably starts writing their own newspaper articles in their heads - or does the Sorting Hat talk to you when it’s on your head? She’ll find out soon enough.

“Is he Gryffindor material?” Draco mutters quietly into her ear, and Hermione considers for a moment.

“He could be,” she whispers without taking her eyes off her brother, “but I think he’ll end up in Ravenclaw, now that our family has convinced him that he’s allowed to do well and learn lots. He could be in any house and do okay, but I think he’s-"

“Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat cries, and Hermione grins at her brother as he hops off the stool and sets the hat down. He walks calmly to the table decked out in blue and silver and sits just on the edge of the bench, staring at his sister.

“Good,” Draco says. “You, too?"

She grins at the blond boy as her own name is called, practically dashes up to the three-legged stool, and locks eyes with her brother before setting the hat on her head to determine her school-home for the next seven years.

* * *

He rolls over yet again, clutching an extra pillow to his chest. The unfamiliar sounds of other people in the room are keeping him up. Terry, the boy in the bed to his left, is muttering quietly to himself. Michael, across the room from Harry, is tossing and turning as well - was that him punching a pillow? Only Anthony seems to be sleeping restfully, but he’s snoring quietly. Harry isn't used to anyone else being in the room when he’s sleeping except for sometimes his sister, but she never snores or mutters or punches. Hermione just snuggles in beside Harry, arms around him, and breathes little puffs of air against his neck as she drifts off.

Harry thinks that if she were here with him, she might be enough for him to ignore the sounds the other boys are making. He's used to sleeping with her, after all. It wouldn't be so much new, so much off from what he's used to at home.

Home.

Harry Granger is homesick.

If he's homesick - the boy who was magically adopted just three and a half years ago, the boy who's lived with three different sets of guardians, the boy who didn't care if he slept in the park or in his cupboard, the boy who only just figured out what home means - then Hermione must be absolutely miserable. If he's homesick, she must be about to die from missing their house and her bed and their parents and-

He throws the covers off himself and swings his feet over the edge of the bed. He can't let her suffer like that. Hermione is his best friend and truest ally and only sister, and he can't let her be upset on her first night in her wonderful new magic school. He grabs a pair of woolen socks from the trunk at the foot of his bed and slips them onto his bare feet before sliding to the floor. Hermione needs him, and he'll be there to curl up in her bed and keep her company so she doesn't feel lonely and homesick.

He's careful to tiptoe quietly from the room. Everyone's curtains are drawn, but Harry's pretty sure at least one of his roommates is awake, so he barely even breathes as he eases the dormitory door open, slips through the smallest crack he'll fit in, and carefully pulls it shut behind him.

There are paintings on the walls. He's caught by surprise when the man in the closest one shifts slightly in his chair before breathing steadily again, eyes closed. Harry swallows hard and tries desperately to remember if any of the stairs had squeaked when they'd come up after the feast. There were too many people talking, laughing, and he hadn't been thinking about it then. Best to assume that every stair could squeak loudly enough to wake one of the portrait people, and best to assume that the portrait people wouldn't be forgiving of a first-year boy sneaking downstairs when he should be asleep.

Harry slides along the wall carefully, checking for frames that might hang in his way every few feet. He places each foot on the very edge of the stair, right against the wall, where the wood is most supported and likely to be quietest. One stair at a time, he slides down to the level below his dormitory, where the prefects sleep.

There are lights on here. The doors are shut, but there are lights on and boys moving around in the rooms. Each of the three prefects has a separate room with their name labeled on the door, but there's a fourth door. Harry has to assume that it's a bathroom and that one of the prefects could come out at any moment and stop him from going to help his sister in her homesickness. He takes the final step onto the stone floor and dashes on the balls of his feet across the landing to the next set of stairs. These are stone as well, and Harry's glad to be able to just watch for waking portraits and not have to worry about squeaking boards making noise.

Unfortunately, he steps on something small and furry, and the resulting yowl is enough to bring all three prefects out of their rooms to see Harry Granger frozen with one foot on their landing and one on the step below, an agitated cat hissing at him.

"Can't sleep?" Robert asks kindly, and Harry hesitantly brings his left foot back up onto the prefects' landing. "A lot of people have trouble on their first night here, especially if they've never slept away from home before," the fifth year continues.

Harry nods silently.

"We can get you some warm milk, but hanging around the common room is just going to keep you up," Robert says as the other prefects return to their rooms. "Best to get you back to bed."

"I was worried about Hermione," Harry says so softly that the prefect has to ask him to repeat it. "She's never been away from home before. Sometimes at home, if one of us is upset, we share a bed and it makes us feel better. I just thought if I could sleep with her, she wouldn't be homesick anymore."

Robert reaches toward Harry, but the younger boy flinches back a step.

"I just want to see Hermione," he whispers, looking at his feet.

"You're not allowed in the girls' dormitory," Robert replies.

"Oh." Harry scuffs a sock-clad toe along a groove between stones.

"I can ask one of the prefects to see if she's still awake if you want to talk to her, but if she's sleeping, it's best to let her sleep if you'll be okay."

Harry frowned up at the prefect. "I'm not homesick! I'm fine! I'm just looking out for my sister."

Robert smiled at him. "Okay. Come with me." The two boys go down the last flight of stone stairs, across the common room, and to the foot of the stairs to the girls' dormitory. "Wait here." Robert walked up the stairs, and Harry suddenly remembered that _Hogwarts, A History_ had explained that prefects could go into the dormitories of the other sex to the level of the other prefects. After just a short moment, a blur of brown came down the stairs and collided with Harry.

He wraps his his arms around his sister and squeezes her just as tightly as she's squeezing him. "You okay?" he asks quietly, not even minding her untamed hair getting into his mouth.

"It's all so different and weird." Her voice is muffled against his shoulder, and he can feel a couple tears on his neck. His own tears start to fall as he holds her even tighter.

"I was trying to come find you to sleep in your bed," Harry explains, and Hermione laughs into his shoulder.

"Me, too," she confesses. "Penny caught me when a portrait started talking to me."

"I stepped on a cat's tail," Harry says.

Hermione snorts very inelegantly. "Well done, Bond."

The sound of the portrait opening makes Harry lift his head and open his eyes, only then realizing that he'd closed them in the first place. Their head of house, Professor Flitwick, steps through the portrait hole and comes over to them as Penny and Robert come back down the stairs. "Is everything okay?"

Harry tightens his grip on Hermione as she moves to pull away. He reminds himself that this is about keeping her from feeling homesick, because he's fine. He's totally fine. Okay, he will be fine as long as she's right there with him. She turns to face their professor despite his continued hug.

"The Granger kids were each looking for each other," Robert explains, and Penny rolls her eyes.

"They're both homesick-"

"Am not," Harry mumbles as he tightens his arms around his sister. Penny smiles at them.

"Anyway, Professor, they said they sleep together at home sometimes and were looking for each other to try to do that tonight so they wouldn't be homesick."

Professor Flitwick turns a sad smile on the siblings. "Harry, Hermione. I know it's hard to adjust to a new place, and I appreciate the two of you supporting each other. Still, you're not allowed in each other's dorms."

"One of the couches?" Hermione asks, her hands coming up to hold onto Harry's forearms where they cross her chest.

The professor shakes his head. "I can't let the common room become the slumber party room, and I'm sure you understand that others would want to sleep down here if you did. What if we all sit together for a little bit and drink some warm milk with a touch of honey before the five of us go back to our five beds?"

They hesitantly agree to this plan, and the milk appears from nowhere on the nearest side table. Halfway through his glass of milk, Harry sniffs suddenly, wiping a sleeve across his face.

"Harry?"

He leans into Hermione's side. "I guess I thought if we were in the same house we could be together."

"Oh, Harry, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Harry continues as though he ddidn't hear her. "All this world does is take away the good family I have. First they took my parents, then they put me with ... _them_. Our parents got me out of _their_ house, but now this world is taking them away from me. I thought at least I could have you, but-" He sniffed again and wiggled until he could put his head on her shoulder. "They're trying to take you away from me, too!" he gasped out as tears started to run freely down his face. "Every part of my family. Everything good in my life, they take. I hate magic, Hermione. All it does is hurt me."

She puts her arm around him automatically, stroking his hair and murmuring quietly even as she casts a frightened look at the older children and adult sitting with them.

"Calming Draught?" Penny suggests hesitantly, and Professor Flitwick shakes his head.

"Not on his first night. Never on the first night."

"Maybe with a few Notice-Me-Not charms on the couch-"

"No." The professor slid off his chair and set his almost-empty glass of milk on the side table. "If I'm making an exception, I'm going to be a Gryffindor about it." The prefects stifle laughs as their head of house strides purposefully to a large portrait in the back corner of the common room. "Madam Helena, I wish to grant one-night access to the married quarters to the siblings on that couch."

The woman in the portrait bowed. "Shall I have Mother give them a wake-up call to return to the dormitories before the others awake?"

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "Just for them to join their yearmates for breakfast. I'll have their robes for the day sent to the suite. Thank you, Madam Helena."

"Married quarters?" Hermione asks as Harry accepts a hankerchief from Penny to wipe the tears from his face as he tries to stop them from falling.

"We have no currently married students, and it's the only place where you both can sleep. Just for tonight, mind you."

Harry pushes himself more upright, pulls Hermione's arm from around his shoulders, and holds her hand tightly. "You'll let us share?" he asks quietly.

"You can share tonight," Professor Flitwick says. With a wave of his wand, the handkerchief is clean and fresh, and Harry wipes his eyes again.

"Are you going to tell anyone about ... this?"

Robert smiles at the siblings in a way that makes Harry wish he was their brother. "No need, little raven. Two fledglings in a different nest than planned isn't news, is it?"

"Birds don't cry," Harry whispers.

"You've just never seen them cry," Hermione corrects with a smile. "Come on, brat. We need to sleep."


End file.
